When the Sunshine Faltered
by Lazy Wonderland
Summary: WW1 AU - GerIta. Lovino is called to war and Feliciano has stay behind due to an illness. When Lovino becomes MIA, Feliciano decides to join the army and find him. Instead he finds a German doctor he can't stop thinking about. On Hiatus.
1. In Which War is Declared

**_This is a companion story to my other fic, When the Storm Breaks, telling Feliciano and Ludwig's POVs. I've tried to make it so they are separate enough to make sense on it's own, but it might make a little more sense if you read both. Thanks._**

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23rd of May 1915, in the small town of Fonte D'olio in Italy

Feliciano almost jumped out of skin when he heard the front door open. Lovino stormed into the kitchen where Feliciano was slicing the skin off an apple with a blunt knife, the only one Lovino allowed him to use. He looked more huffy than usual which made Feliciano expect the worst. He was anxious too, all morning; ever since the priest called the whole town to the Church for a meeting. The priest had never done that, and consequently, Feliciano worried. At least one person from each household had to go, Lovino ultimately rejected Feliciano's offers and made the small journey into town. Feliciano was still recovering from an almost fatal disease he had a few winters ago and Lovino was determined to keep Feliciano sheltered from the world since then. Feliciano knew his brother was just trying to protect him, but this inside life was stifling. Sometimes, when Lovino was at his job or the market, Feliciano would step outside for just a few moments and breathe in the fresh air, letting the scent of the Italian countryside fill his lungs. He had done so a few moments before Lovino arrived back and hence felt refreshed and at peace. Now he just felt apprehensive.

"Those bastards," Lovino grumbled as he slumped into the chair opposite.

"What? What happened?"

"They've only gone and declared war."

"Who have?"

Lovino looked at him like it was obvious. "We have, Italy, has declared war on Austria-Hungary."

Feliciano nodded as he accepted this new information. So his country was at war, but why was Lovino so angry? What did it mean for them?

"What does that mean for us, then?" Feliciano decided to speak his mind. Lovino was clearly agitated by this question and his face fell into even angrier angles. Was it not clear to him that this war will be devastating for the both of them? Feliciano looked down at his apple, regretting ever asking.

"It means, dumbass, that I have to go off to war." Lovino spoke slowly for his half witted brother to understand.

"Oh." A small syllable Feliciano could only just manage. Those last words floated around in Feliciano's mind for a few moments and then he looked up at the man who had spoken them. He could see that Lovino was contemplating something and waited until his stare drew Lovino's eyes towards his own.

"What?"

"Why only you?" Feliciano felt like he knew the answer and Lovino would probably get annoyed at this question, but he asked it anyway.

Lovino _did_ become annoyed. "Do you want me to remind you for the hundredth time that you're too sick and too weak to even step foot _outside_ , let alone fight in a war!" He was out of his seat and shouting by the time he finished his sentence. Feliciano shrank back at the words he had recently grown accustomed to over the past few years. Lovino, at his brother's reaction, sank back down into his chair and looked away. Silence echoed throughout the room. Feliciano had long since forgotten his apple, but now started to work back into it just for something to do.

"How's Antonio?" Feliciano decided to break the heavy stillness of the room. Mention of the Spanish priest made Lovino's eyes light up for a brief moment and he sat up slightly straighter.

"He's doing well, for someone who just broke the news of war to the town." Feliciano nodded and Lovino went on. Lovino could talk for hours about Antonio if he wanted, and Feliciano knew this. It was a good distraction. "He said instead of fighting, he's been allowed to look after the church and help with the morale of the town." Lovino looked down at his hands, somewhat relieved of this. Suddenly, realisation hit him and he looked up excitedly.

"What? What is it?" Feliciano was immediately confused.

"Antonio can look after you while I'm at war, until I get back!" Lovino bounced in his seat. At this rate, Feliciano could make it through till next year, Lovino could go fight in Isonzo or whatever it was called, and be back before either of them knew it. The only thing that bugged him about this whole mess was Feliciano's health, and know there was a solution Lovino could fight diligently and whole heartedly for his country. And for Feliciano and Antonio.

"Promise you'll come back?" Feliciano timidly asked for his brother's confirmation.

"Of course I'll come back, Feli." And Lovino meant it. He would come back to Fonte D'Olio, to his brother and Antonio, after a successful war. Lovino silently promised himself that he would. Even if they weren't victorious, and their small farming town had been taken over by Austria-Hungary, he would still come back.

An explosion that tore through the peace faltered Lovino's thoughts and he looked in the direction it came from.

"That sounded like it came from Ancona, do you think everything is ok?" Feliciano was always fretting about everything. Lovino strode to the front door, grabbing his jacket along the way. As he swung open the door he informed Feliciano that he would be back soon.

"Let me come with you, I want to know what's happening too—"

"No, Feli. You stay here. I'll tell you when I get back." The door slamming seemed to echo the faint but evident eruptions coming from the west.

Next day

Feliciano was restless. It had become dark and Lovino was not back yet. He was especially worried because of yesterday. The Austro-Hungarian Bombardment on Ancona had been strong and fierce all through yesterday evening, and this morning and afternoon too. It had stopped now, though, and Feliciano wanted it to stay that way. Although he was hungry, he did not want to eat dinner alone. He would probably be eating alone from now on anyway, and he wanted to savour every last moment he had with Lovino before he left. Feliciano couldn't wait any longer. For the first time in about three years Feliciano put on his jacket and stepped out onto the road. He looked out on the fields he had grown up to love and sighed wistfully. Looking down from their small hill to the centre of town, then out to sea, then back at their unattended farm, he started to trot towards the church. His and Lovino's small cottage was situated further from town than Feliciano could remember and he became short of breath very quickly. He didn't care though. He was outside, in the moonlight. He was going to see the old church again. He used to go every Sunday along with Grandpa and Lovino, and after the service they would go out into the church gardens and sing, or draw, or both, and… and there it was! The small, picturesque church looked exactly as it did when he last saw it three years ago.

Feliciano gained speed before he knew it. He felt so alive at that moment. He was actually running, and laughed as he did so. The last time Feliciano walked at a speed higher than his normal pace Lovino sat him down and told him to rest even though he did not need to. Feliciano felt like he was flying, and once he reached the church he flung open the doors excitedly. He did not care if there was a sermon happening. Heck, he didn't even care if two people were getting married. He was at the church after so long.

But there were no sermons, nor weddings. The church was completely empty except for two men stood hand in hand at the alter. Before Feliciano could make them out (this was not a big church, it had just been so long since Feliciano had to look that far away) the two broke their embrace and moved toward Feliciano. One was more deliberate and faster than the other, who was struggling to keep up. Lovino grabbed Feliciano's arm.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Lovino exploded.

Feliciano stammered "I.. uh… I—"

"Don't worry, Lovino. We needed a witness anyway." Antonio's soothing voice behind Lovino seemed to calm him a little. He relaxed his iron grip on Feliciano's arm.

"Witness?" Feliciano couldn't help but be bewildered.

"But how did you get here?" Lovino ignored Feliciano's question.

"He probably just walked here. He's not as weak as you think." Antonio answered for him.

Feliciano started smiling widely and he said with a matter of pride "I ran the last part,"

Antonio gestured toward the gleeful Italian. "See? He's as strong as a bull."

Lovino finally released his clutch on his younger brother's arm.

"That's great and all, but what if the military find out? Will they take him to war?" Lovino turned desperately to Antonio. "I don't want that for him."

Antonio placed a soft hand on Lovino's cheek. "The military won't find out. I'll make sure of that." He reassured.

Feliciano blinked a couple times at the gesture, and noticed how his brother was staring deeply into the Spaniard's eyes. He immediately understood. "Ah, witness."

Antonio, taking his hand away, nodded eagerly. He took Lovino's hand in his and turned to Feliciano. "Feli, would you do the honour of being the one and only witness to our wedding?"

Feliciano grinned even wider, which both other men did not think was possible, and nodded enthusiastically.

Walking back, well more like Lovino and Antonio were strolling hand in hand and Feliciano was skipping, the happy-go-lucky of the three decided to make conversation.

"I knew it all along, you know."

Lovino snapped up his head to look at Feliciano. "You knew what all along?"

Feliciano smiled knowingly and giggled. "That you two are in love." Feliciano spun around at the last word and Antonio chuckled. Lovino promptly looked as red as a tomato.

"Shut up, bastard, I was saving that for tonight." He spat.

"Oh you were, were you?" Antonio raised an eyebrow. Feliciano giggled again.

Lovino turned a deeper crimson, if that was possible. "Well, I.. uh.. bastard—"

"How did you know, Feli?" Antonio saved Lovino from even more embarrassment.

"Well, the way you look at each other… um.. the way Lovino talked about you.. and…. um.." Feliciano looked lost for words. He tried to gesticulate instead. "It's hard to describe, you know?" He looked wistfully ahead. "I wish I could fall in love."

Antonio smiled. "I'm sure you will, Feli." He said wisely. "And when you do, we will be here to support you and your love," He jabbed Lovino in the ribs. "Won't we, Lovi?"

"Um, yeah, sure. Whatever."

Antonio started ridiculing Lovino for his lack of support but Feliciano wasn't listening. 'You're love.' His love. The idea was alien to him. He only knew three people in the entire world, one of them was about to leave for war and another was already dead. He was sociable with the villagers before illness struck, but he had not spoken with them since. How was he ever going to find his love when he couldn't even leave the house? Feliciano felt very tired suddenly and started to walk a a slower pace. He had been stood up for too long and he had actually ran somewhere. It was too much for his lungs to cope with.

As soon as they got back, Feliciano knew they would want the bedroom so sat on the rocking chair on the porch. Antonio nodded at Feliciano as a thanks and ushered Lovino inside. Once the door closed shut Feliciano let out a small sigh and realised his stomach was rumbling. After all the excitement, running, seeing the church again, the wedding, Feliciano had completely forgotten about dinner. He knew he would find it awkward going back into the house, and it wasn't like he could reheat the pasta anyway without making some sort of noise, so he eventually decided to venture out into the middle of the overgrown field outside their house. Situated here was a lone orange tree, the one which Feliciano visited often before his illness. He knew the season oranges became ripe enough to eat had ended last month, but he could still see a few late bloomers Lovino had not bothered to pick. He plucked a plump orange off the nearest branch, tearing off some of the skin as he lowered himself to the ground. Leaning on the trunk he looked out to sea and let his mind wander. Although so far Lovino had tried to hide it from him, he knew there was a possibility Lovino might not come back. That's why Lovino and Antonio had decided to get married that night, they might not get the chance ever again. What if Lovino got captured by the enemy? What would Feliciano do then? Antonio would be heartbroken. Feliciano made a fateful decision that night. If Lovino ever got captured by the enemy, Feliciano would go find him and bring him back.

 _To be continued..._


	2. In Which an Italian goes to War

That night Feliciano had slept on the rocking chair on the porch. The chair wasn't as pleasant as he would've liked, but it wasn't too uncomfortable either. He was just glad the temperature had stayed moderately warm throughout the night. At the crack of dawn he was awoken by the sound of creaking footsteps on wooden ground. Just as he opened his eyes Lovino had exited the building, closing the door softly behind him as if he had done so many times before. Lovino stopped when he noticed his brother and a flash of guilt appeared behind his eyes. Feliciano stood up.

"Where are you going Lovino?"

Lovino scuffed the heel of his boot on the porch. "I've already said goodbye to Toni."

It was at that point Feliciano noticed the large military style bag slumped over Lovino's shoulder.

"You're leaving already?"

"They wanted new recruits as soon as possible."

"And you were just going to leave?"

"You know I'm not good with goodbyes."

"But this isn't goodbye, this is see you later. Right?" He cocked his head to the side.

The two stood in awkward silence for a couple seconds until Lovino stuck out an arm, expecting Feliciano to take it. "See you later, Feliciano."

Feliciano just stared at the extended hand for a few moments then practically leapt onto Lovino for a hug. Taken by surprise Lovino had to step back a little, then awkwardly patted Feliciano on the back. Once the two ended their embrace Lovino stepped back, nodded at his teary eyed brother and started to walk down the road toward the centre of town.

"See you later, Lovino!" Feliciano shouted as loud as he could and waved wildly at the disappearing figure, who raised a hand in a wave without turning to look back. Feliciano stayed mid wave until he could no longer see Lovino then lowered his hand slowly, and half heartedly went back into the house.

Sunday afternoon the following week, Antonio was preparing a large basket of food for Feliciano's week ahead. It was after the sermon, but a handful of children still lingered in the courtyard passing around a football, in ignorant bliss of what was happening in the world around them. Seeing the priest leave the church with a basket in hand made the children flock toward him in curiosity. There were four of them in total; and they all spoke at once asking where he was going, why with a basket and what was in the basket. Antonio contemplated for a moment on whether to let them in on the secret of Feliciano. Since half the town already thought he was already dead, Antonio believed it was best if the military thought the same, so didn't mention his brother-in-law to anyone. These were only small kids and it's not like anyone took notice of them anyway. They belonged to the makeshift orphanage type thing in the church some of the women ran for the children whose father had gone to war and mother was too busy with the war effort to look after them. Antonio crouched down to the right height.

"I'm bringing some food to a good friend of mine."

Echoes of 'who' bounced between the children until Antonio stood back up. They waited expectantly for a reply.

"Just a friend of mine." Antonio smiled and started to trot out of the courtyard but the children persisted. They followed him halfway up the road until he stopped and turned to face them. He chuckled slightly at their enthusiasm

"My brother, okay? Now go back to church." He said lightheartedly.

"I didn't know you had a brother, can we see him?" The others agreed with the one who had spoken.

Antonio sighed. "Fine, but as long as you bring that football with you." The children cheered and ran up the path towards the Vargas' cottage.

Feliciano got along with the children almost as soon as they introduced themselves. Feliciano often played football with them, but not after too long he usually had to sit down and watch from the sidelines. The more they came to play, however, the more Feliciano's lungs got used to the exercise. Antonio could see with each passing day that Feliciano was getting healthier and healthier. If he kept up this lifestyle he might be able to get through the winter without some sort of chesty cough like the years prior. Antonio even thought this war would pass quite peacefully. If Lovino was there everything would be almost perfect.

Everything was not almost perfect for Lovino at that moment. On the Italian Front in Isonzo both sides were worn out of morale and artillery, but that didn't stop the Austro-Hungarians from capturing the platoon Lovino was in. He felt sick as he and a dozen other men were escorted by the enemy to the nearest train station. That sickness would probably wear off though, since the train station was more than a couple days walk away, and they were told they would have to wait another day at the train station for the train to actually arrive.

During the second day of marching towards an uncertain future, Antonio received a telegram. It was one of the days he didn't visit Feliciano due to the amount of work he had to do to help their village, but today he made an exception. Through his numb feelings after hearing the news, he had an outburst of anger directed toward the kids, who were only asking where he was going. When the children shrank away at his tone of voice he immediately softened and answered their question.

"I'm going to see Feliciano, but this is serious business so you can't come. Okay?"

Three of the children nodded and went back into to church. The one who had stayed looked determined to get answers. He had blonde hair and striking blue eyes which seemed to have a set goal in place.

Being 8, he was oldest of the four by a couple years, but despite having the obvious advantage in age and height he was often ridiculed by the other three. Antonio knew it was because he was originally from Germany, and kids will be kids, but this also meant the other adults were prejudice against him as well. Of course, when the boy, Otto, met Feliciano, one of the kindest of people Antonio had known, they soon became quick friends. Feliciano had no prejudice against this boy and the boy was lonely. Otto had often said he wanted to live with Feliciano.

"You and Feliciano aren't brothers, are you." It was more like a statement. Otto knew what he was talking about.

"Go back into the church, Otto. I will tell you what's happening when I get back."

Otto looked down at his boots. "Fine." As soon as he had turned around Antonio hurried towards the cottage.

"I have to go find him." Feliciano was more determined than Antonio had ever seen before. Usually Feliciano would laugh something like this off; he laughed off the news of illness when the local doctor broke it to him all those years ago. Obviously Lovino meant more to him than that.

Lovino.

Antonio missed him so much. He was very tempted to go there himself, but he knew the church wouldn't let him. In the end he decided to keep Lovino's wish.

"Don't go Feli, you'll just get killed." He looked down at the natural weaving patterns of the wooden table and traced a few with his finger.

"But what if we never see him again?" Feliciano hiccuped and tears began falling.

"Don't say such things, Feliciano." Antonio's steely emerald eyes met Feliciano's watery amber ones, and softened. "We'll see him again, don't worry."

That night Feliciano lay staring at the ceiling. Didn't he promise himself to go? After a few hours thinking about it, he leapt out of bed. He wasn't too ill anymore, he was sure he would be fine if he though optimistically. He drew in a deep breath, said a few last silent goodbyes to the cottage he grew up in, and went to join the army. He was going to find Lovino and bring him back.

Before he left for good, however, he decided to make one last stop. Otto was quite annoyed when he was woken up in the middle of the night by someone poking him on the cheek. As rubbed his eyes clear of sleep he realised it was Feliciano his anger subsided.

"Otto, I'm sorry but I am going to war. We might not see each other in a long time."

"But you're a girl, and girls can't go to war."

Feliciano chuckled. "Nope, I'm pretty sure I'm a boy."

"Oh." The young boy seemed crestfallen. "Will I ever see you again?"

"As soon as I get back, I promise I'll come and see you again."

Feliciano stood up to leave.

"No, wait! What'll I do without you? Don't leave!" He looked around for inspiration. "Here, take this with you" He held out a piece of clothing. "Maybe it will help you think of me, and then," He sniffed. "Then you won't forget about me."

Feliciano looked down at the clothing and took it. "Si, grazie. I would be honoured to have you underpants." Feliciano smiled sweetly. "I feel like I should give you something too." He bent down and kissed him on both cheeks, and left the church with a blushing Otto on the verge of crying.

 _To be continued..._

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 ** _Also, if you got which country Otto is then yay! He didn't have an official human name so I made it up._**


	3. In Which Laughter is the Best Medicine

_Can Can(youtube);_ watch?v=DHIV3OPRo4U

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August 1915

Feliciano felt giddy as he marched onto the platform. He decided not to mention to Antonio what was happening, but left him a note instead. He followed the small crowd of other reinforcements to the nearest train. Feliciano had never even seen a train before, and now he was going to ride one. This was going to be an exciting day. He and the other soldiers were rushed towards the massive train by the commanding Officers. He kept on slowing down to stare in awe at the giant machine, which consequently earned him a small nudge now and again by the man behind to keep up. Someone was shouting something about departure and arrival at someplace Feliciano didn't know the name of. The other men were worried for excitable little Feliciano, they were older and wiser and had been called up to fight because of how many casualties there had been. Feliciano was the youngest and the most naïve, and obviously didn't quite know how serious this war was. Nonetheless they let him be excited, before his mind was ruined by the everlasting effects of the war. They had seen countless men come back for hospital treatment, broken empty shells of the men they once were. Feliciano had also seen these puppets and the other men had a mutual respect for him when his heart did not falter at the sight. Little did they know his heart would do soon, but not because of the broken shell of someone he didn't know. There was a small band playing in the background; it sounded quite sombre, so Feliciano decided to detach himself from the group and find whoever was playing. It took him a few minutes of pushing through crowds to get to where he wanted. There were five men playing various instruments; two violins, a cello, a flute and a clarinet, and they all looked as if they really didn't want to be there. Especially the man at the front with a violin. His right foot had been replaced by a stump and a dirty bandage which caused people to stare, ask penetrating questions, and grimace. The other men also had bandages somewhere on their body. Feliciano didn't stare or grimace though, he just asked a question. The men stopped playing.

"What's the matter?" He looked genuinely concerned and the man was startled at this kind of happy someone had asked. Despite this he still answered with a sarcastic drawl.

"Guess." Feliciano looked down at the stump leg, then at the violin he was holding, then at the man's face. He cleared his throat.

"Well I think it's a beautiful day to be playing Rossini."

The violinist looked at the other men, then readjusted himself on his chair. "Alright, got any requests?"

Feliciano kicked off his huge military boots and as he settled them neatly on the ground in front of him he said, "I fancy a bit of La Boutique Fantasque."

A highly celebrated ballet, the band knew what he was implying. They exchanged a few curt nods and started playing Can Can.

Feliciano smiled widely. He didn't know how they were able to play a song that needed a whole orchestra, but they did it somehow. They even had to include tapping their feet and whistling to make up for the lack of instruments, it sounded good nonetheless. They weren't even a few seconds in and Feliciano started dancing. He had been learning ballet from a young age, and although he hadn't been practising at all since Grandpa died he still looked amazing. Swirling in time with the music with ballet improv, Feliciano attracted a solemn crowd looking for a reason to smile. They formed a ring around Feliciano. Men started clapping along and the Station Master even provided music from his small whistle. Feliciano was soon pulling men out of the crowd, showing them a dance move and getting them to repeat it, then letting them retreat back to their companions. He did this several times with several different men, until he ended up holding his hand out to a rather stern looking man with a buzzcut. After a brief pause in the music, he finally had to drag the man into the ring and spun him around in circles. He then let go of the man and he fell back into the crowd, his stoney face replaced with a huge grin. Feliciano kept on spinning on the spot until the music ended, so he stopped with a bow. He first bowed at the crowd who burst into a huge applause and cheered loudly, then to the band who were also impressed by this seemingly professional dancing.

After the men were told to disperse, Feliciano slumped on the ground cross-legged breathing heavily. He looked up at the violinist he had first spoke to and chuckled.

"What is it?" The rest of the band was also confused by this behaviour.

Feliciano beamed. "I made you smile."

The violinist scoffed. "I suppose you did."

Feliciano's head snapped in the opposite direction when his group called his name. He stood, grabbed his boots and waved back at the band as he left.

"Keep on smiling!" The band could still hear his voice as he was swallowed up by the crowd. They continued playing cheerful tunes for the rest of the day.

"Come on, Feliciano!" Feliciano narrowly made it on the train in one piece; it started rolling out the station just as he jumped on. He giggled at the weird sensation of standing in a moving vehicle. The man who had warned him to hurry up frowned at this peculiar young man.

"Where were you?"

"Dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Yeah, so the man with the violin would smile."

The man concluded, Feliciano sure was an oddball.

"Alright then. Just don't be late again."

Feliciano saluted. "Yes sir."

"Sit down then, else you want to fall out."

"What?" Feliciano was so surprised and worried about this that the man had to reassure him.

"Don't worry, you won't fall out. Unless you want to jump out."

"Um, okay." Feliciano was still a bit shaken up. He sat down obediently. The man sighed. Did this young man who just wanted to make people smile deserve to go to war?

 _To be continued..._


	4. In Which Two More are Introduced

The train ride wasn't too long; Feliciano was able to occupy himself by watching the passing scenery, or chatting with the other soldiers. However, the general cheer of the morning dissipated into fear of first combat. As they were getting off the train each soldier got handed a standard issue rifle by the General. When it came to Feliciano's turn the General just looked him up and down and sighed.

"Feliciano, right? Since you're a bit weaker than the others, we have given you the grand task," He reached behind him and picked up the flag of Italy on a pole. "Of holding the flag of Italy at the front of the charge." Feliciano took the flag and the General had a strangely pleasant smile evident on his lips. Feliciano smiled politely back and started to move towards the other soldiers, when the General caught his arm. "You'll be at the front with me. And don't stop, no matter what." Feliciano nodded.

And so he did. He marched on with the others just behind the General. He continued to march on when he stumbled into the line of fire, into explosions and death. He continued to march on when the General fell lifeless in front of him. He continued to march on when there was no one else left to fall. He continued to march on until he walked head first into a very tall muscular man. He looked up, blinked a couple times, realised this was the enemy, and ultimately dropped the flag in fear.

"Uwah! Please don't hurt me, I'm a virgin and virgins aren't fun to shoot! You're German, right? I have relatives in Bavaria, so please don't shoot…" He babbled his plea at the German who looked amusedly at this small Italian who could also speak German somehow. The soldier barked back at his own General.

"Sir, we have a straggler, what should we do with him?"

The General seemed disinterested, not even looking in their direction. "Just put him on a train to Zossen. They seem to be lacking in men."

The soldier nodded.

A few hours later Feliciano found himself yet again hopping out of a train. This time in a different country, with different clothes, and for a different purpose. He was roughly pushed through a gate and heard a deafening sound of the gate being locked shut behind him. Finding himself in a compound with other men wearing the same uniforms, Feliciano concluded he had been put into a Prisoner of War camp. Just like Lovino. How could he find Lovino when he was a prisoner? At least he didn't have to fight or anything. He surveyed the area. He wasn't quite sure if Germany was known for its freezing winters, so for his own health he decided to ask.

"Oh, excuse me, are winters cold here?" Feliciano looked inquisitively at the only two men who actually looked like they could carry a conservation. Although both of them looked weary, they both shared a mutual determination for one reason or another. The one with bushy eyebrows looked up and jabbed his partner, who had slightly longer hair and a stubble.

"Oi, you know Italian right?" Eyebrows spoke with an English accent which Feliciano could only describe as downright posh.

"Ah, it is alright. I speak English too." Feliciano explained, switching to English. "I was just asking if the winters here are cold?"

"Oui, my friend. Why do you ask?" So the one with a stubble was French.

"I just don't fair well in winters, that's all." Feliciano was devastated. What if his illness came back?

"Why do you say that?" Eyebrows pulled Feliciano out of his thoughts.

"Hey, don't ask personal questions, Kirkland."

"You were about to ask the same thing."

"Was not. I was obviously about to ask this fine young man for his name, like a proper gentleman would do."

"I am a proper gentleman!" Eyebrows took Stubble by the collar and Stubble just smiled and raised his hands in surrender. Feliciano smiled. They seemed as close as Antonio and Lovino. He wondered how long it would be until he got to see either of them again.

"So, what is your name?" The Englishman and Frenchman settled their differences and Stubble got to ask his question.

"Feliciano, but you can call me Feli. What is yours?"

"Well, I'm Francis, and my friend here—"

"More like acquaintance." Eyebrows scoffed. Francis rolled his eyes.

"My acquaintance here is—"

"Arthur."

"Stop interrupting me!"

"Not until you stop being such an arrogant child."

"What did I ever do?"

"You existed. And anyway, you're upsetting our new friend."

" _I'm_ upsetting him?" Francis' voice grew sharper.

Feliciano felt like he needed to intervene. He raised his hands.

"Ah, um well is there a doctor I could speak too?"

Francis turned away from Arthur to look at him. "Why do you need a doctor? Are you ill?"

"I thought you said we weren't asking personal questions?"

"Shut up and let the man speak." Francis gestured to Feliciano and Arthur grumbled under his breath.

"Um, I did have a illness but—"

"aN illness," Arthur corrected. Francis smacked him around the back of his head.

"Give him a break, it is his second language,"

"Fourth, actually." The Italian seemed to impress the other two with this information. "Grandpa taught my brother and I English and German because he thought it come in useful, and Spanish because he said it was the language of... love? I think that is what he said."

"And how old are you?" Francis appeared doubtful.

"21."

"Wow, who knew. Maybe you should start learning some languages, Arthur. You're what? 26 now? He's 21 and he knows four."

"Oh shut up, frog. So what was this about an illness?" Arthur decided to change the subject.

"Ah, yes. I had a really bad one a few years ago. It has gone now but the doctor said I should keep out of the cold just in case it comes back."

"What's the illness?" Arthur wanted to help this poor Italian. He looked weak enough as it is.

Feliciano thought for a second. "Ah, sorry, I do not know it in English."

"What is it in Italian? I could translate for you." Francis suddenly remembered he could speak Italian.

"*Tubercolosi polmonare."

Francis' eyebrows knotted together, then his face rested in sad realisation.

"I see. I'm sorry and I hope you made a full recovery."

Feliciano grimaced at painful memories.

"What? What is it?" Arthur didn't want to be kept in the dark for much longer.

"Pulmonary TB." Francis explained.

"Oh." Arthur was frustrated. He was frustrated that the military were so desperate that they let in a poor, well educated young boy with a possibility of getting TB. One of the worse kinds too. He wanted this war to end soon; so more young men like Feliciano, like Alfred back in the states, could never experience the hellish world of war. He knew it was too late for his Canadian friend Matthew.

"So where is this doctor you were speaking of?"

A bell rang before anyone could answer Feliciano's question.

"It is lunch now, then work in the fields. I do not think you will have time to speak to him for today." Francis explained.

Feliciano nodded. "Are the lunches nice here?" He looked slightly hopeful.

"It's no cuisine but I guess you can decide for yourself. It's actually pretty nice."

The three of them started to walk towards the dining hall.

"I think only _you_ can say that Kirkland, having no taste and all. In my experience, it tastes incredibly bland."

It was just as Francis described. Feliciano didn't mind though, he was able to make a few more friends during lunch and work. The work was tedious, but every time an officer looked away Feliciano would stop working completely and make some sort of silly face behind his back, making the others laugh. The whole camp saw Feliciano as their younger brother and treated him kindly. The cook would even put an extra bit of meat on his plate, or sprinkle a bit of sugar on Feliciano's porridge in the morning. The cook's reason for this was that Feliciano looked too thin. Nobody complained. Nobody picked on Feliciano and he was fed three times a day. Feliciano liked it here.

* * *

 _*This is pronounced two-bur-co-law-si pul-mon-ah-ree_

* * *

 _ **There you go, another chapter. I'm getting really excited for this story now, and I hope you are too.**_

 _ **As you know, this is a companion fic and I am planning on doing a FrUk one too, as well as a PruCan one and an AmeriPan one. Please tell me if I should do so, thanks.**_


	5. In Which Something Amazing is Produced

Every Sunday and Wednesday the prisoners were allowed to write a letter home to relatives. Feliciano would've written to Antonio but he couldn't remember the address. Instead he did what he could do best (besides cooking pasta and dancing), and that was drawing. He looked around for inspiration, as he usually had a model or landscape to use as a reference. Although Francis and Arthur were sat opposite, they were both concentrating on their own papers so Feliciano couldn't see their faces properly. He ended up drawing Lovino, as he had drawn him many times before and knew his facial features almost off by heart. When Francis heard a smooth curve of artistic intent instead of the usual blunt sound of cursives he looked up to see his Italian friend sketching a portrait.

"Do you not want to write to anyone?" Arthur stopped to look up when Francis spoke.

"I do," Feliciano didn't look up. "I can't remember the address. This is to pass the time."

Francis nodded as if to say 'fair enough' and Arthur strained his neck to see the sketch. So far there was a neck, chin and an outline of hair. No facial features, shade or tone had been added but Arthur knew it was the beginnings of a great piece of art.

"Whose it of?" Arthur was curious.

"My big brother, Lovino."

"He's the one you came to find, right?"

Feliciano made a noise of agreement, far too transfixed on his sketching to speak, so Arthur left him to it.

When the hour was up and the men were told to finish off what they were writing, Feliciano stuffed the now finished portrait in his pocket. As they were leaving they had to hand in whatever they had to the officer waiting at the door. Feliciano just put up his hands and spoke incoherent Italian, which confused the officer so he gestured for Feliciano to move on. As soon as they were outside Feliciano skipped to the nearest building and held up the drawing to the wall. Luckily, the fellow prisoner walking by was chewing gum, and sacrificed it so Feliciano could pin up his drawing. This wall soon became Feliciano's wall of portraits. As the weeks went by, Lovino's portrait was soon joined by Antonio's, then Francis' and Arthur's, then a few other prisoners and officers. Feliciano had left a huge gap in the middle of all these portraits, and when asked what would fill it he would answer along the lines of 'something amazing.' Nobody knew what this 'amazing' thing was, not even Feliciano, and he was beginning to run out of inspiration.

One Tuesday in September, it was free time just before lunch. Feliciano decided to find Francis and Arthur, since they seemed to know everything about everything, and Feliciano had something on his mind. After being directed to several different places by several different people, he managed search the whole camp except one place. The showers. As he skipped happily into the showers, he noticed one of the cubicles was occupied. The shower wasn't on though. Feliciano could here some sort of struggle coming from the cubicle, so quickly walked towards it and pulled back the curtain. Arthur and Francis stood semi-naked, quite clearly kissing in a warm embrace. When both men noticed the curtain move, they abruptly pulled away. Arthur drew his gaze to the wall while Francis looked to see who had kiboshed their make-out session. Feliciano, realising who it was and what they were doing, immediately took a step back.

"I'm sorry," He closed the curtains once again. "Just carry on." He turned on his heel and started to walk away. Francis tugged away the curtain and marched to Feliciano, catching his arm. Arthur followed, putting his shirt back on.

"Uh, I'm sorry for intruding," Feliciano squeaked at Francis' sudden movement.

"Feliciano, I need you to promise me that you will tell no one about this. Okay?"

"Okay." Feliciano nodded. Francis sighed, letting his hand go limp and Feliciano's arm go free.

"So how long..?" Feliciano raised an eyebrow.

Francis looked back at Arthur, whose cheeks were still a deep crimson, then to Feliciano again."How long what?"

Feliciano smirked and his eyes flickered from Francis, to Arthur, and back to Francis again. Francis nodded in realisation. "Oh yes," He stretched his arm around Arthur who rolled his eyes at the gesture. "We have been together for quite a while, no?"

Arthur scoffed and shook Francis' arm off his shoulder. "More like a couple weeks."

Francis gesticulated wildly. "But a couple amazing weeks, I'd say." Arthur blushed slightly, but gave Francis a doubtful look anyway. Feliciano smiled at the happy-but-not-so-happy couple. So he was right; they _were_ as close as Antonio and Lovino.

"So you are okay with this, Feli? Man and man, I mean." Francis turned his attention back to Feliciano.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Feliciano cocked his head to the side, honestly perplexed by the question.

Arthur looked confusedly at the Italian's thought process. After all, he had been brought up to think it as unnatural, wouldn't have Feliciano as well? Francis beamed at Feliciano.

"Of course, love is love. Oui?"

Feliciano grinned in agreement. He suddenly felt very tired though, as if all the work and running around he had done since he came to the camp had caught up with him; he had to keep blinking to stop his eyes from going blurry. He felt a sharp pain root in his temples, then disseminate throughout his head. Taking an unbalanced step backwards, he raised a hand to his forehead. Echoes of "are you okay" bounced around inside his head, but everything was suddenly spinning and he couldn't trace where the questions came from. The whole world unexpectedly tilted sideways and Feliciano's face met hard concrete.

A change of scenery. Supposedly a moment before, Feliciano was in the shower chambers. Now he was staring up at a wooden ceiling. Sitting up, he was immediately pushed down again.

"No, you must stay down and sleep." A German doctor with intense blue eyes and golden slicked back hair, sat next to Feliciano's bed. Feliciano regarded him as very handsome, so held up his hand and smiled brightly. The doctor seemed taken aback by the gesture, and Feliciano's brilliant smile, but reluctantly took his hand anyway.

Feliciano shook excitedly while slowly sitting up. "I'm Feliciano, but you can call me Feli. Can you tell me where I am?"

The doctor blinked a couple times at this warm introduction. "Um, we're in the hospital building at the camp. I'm Ludwig, one of the doctors here."

"Oh, nice to meet you. Why am I here, then? What happened?"

"You just fainted of exhaustion, that's all." Ludwig seemed somewhat relieved of this fact. "After a night's rest you will go back to regular work." He now seemed a bit crestfallen. "Just take it easy," Ludwig looked up and half-smiled. "Okay?"

"Okay." Feliciano's breath was taken away and he couldn't stop staring. That one half-smile Ludwig had given him sent him over the moon. He wondered what a full whole hearted smile would mean.

As soon as he was discharged and they were allowed to write a letter home, Feliciano tried to recreate the half-smile he had seen. Somehow he was able to get the portrait almost picture perfect even though he had only seen Ludwig once. He surprised himself, and was very pleased with the outcome. This would be the 'amazing' thing Feliciano had promised for the centre of the wall. It had been stuck proudly with chewing gum just before Feliciano would not be able to sketch anymore. Winter was closing in fast, and the cold was setting into Feliciano's chest quickly. It would not be long until he paid another visit to Ludwig.

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 _ **Happy Valentine's Day! I thought I'd put this chapter up in time for Valentine's Day, so sorry for the wait.**_


	6. In Which it Runs in the Family

_Smiles (skip to 1:45 if you don't want to listen to the intro) (also this is on Youtube) watch?v=fYOl_PuvsMg_

* * *

During free time a few days after recreating the half smile, Feliciano decided to curl up in his top bunk pulling the thin duvet around him. It had grown really cold lately, but apparently the others didn't feel it as much as Feliciano did. He was just about to take a nap when two other men came into the building, mumbling about something. It was Arthur and Francis. They sat on the bed below Feliciano, as it was Francis', and it seemed they hadn't noticed him yet. Feliciano couldn't make out what they were saying, so decided to make his presence known by popping his head over the side. Arthur and Francis' surprised faces were even funnier upside-down.

"Are you two gonna kiss again?" He giggled as the blood rushed to his head.

"Feli, I told you to keep that a secret." Francis hissed. Feliciano drew his head back up and dropped down from the top bunk so he was on the same level as them.

Plopping down on the bed opposite, he answered. "So what? Nobody's here. And it's not like I caught you two making love or anything."

"I would have preferred the term 'fucking,' 'making love' is far from what we're doing." Arthur drawled cynically.

"Arthur! Don't say that, I would _love_ to make love with you." Francis clasped his hands together wistfully.

"Oh, so you _do_ do it." Feliciano smiled knowingly. Arthur was taken aback and his cheeks burned a deep crimson. Francis was less embarrassed than his counterpart, but embarrassed nonetheless.

"No— We don't—" Arthur stuttered. Francis waved his hands as if to say 'no' several times when his voice failed on him. Feliciano sniggered. Seeing his friends flustered like this was rather entertaining. He decided not to prod any further.

Waiting for them to settle down, he decided to carry on the conversation. "So what were you talking about earlier?"

Francis glanced around before moving in closer and whispering. "You must never tell this to anyone, Feli. Especially none of the German Officers you speak to." The air around them became heavy.

Feliciano moved in closer as well, and glanced around furtively. "Is it that Francis and Arthur regularly have sex?" He spoke under his breath. "Because I think I could provide evidence."

Arthur snorted and Francis stared in disbelief. He chuckled. "You do come out with the weirdest things, Feli."

Feliciano sat back and folded his arms proudly. "It's my speciality." Now that the atmosphere was lighter, he decided to ask again. "I won't tell, what was it that you were talking about?"

Francis sat back too and looked at Arthur for reassurance, who nodded as if to give permission. "Arthur and I were thinking about escaping."

This took Feliciano by surprise. "Why would you want to leave? It's nice here and I get nice food."

Francis shook his head. "But it's cold, and includes back breaking work. They are feeding us the minimum amount of food. We should not have to live in these conditions. We're working on a plan which will involve the whole camp."

"Everyone?"

"Yes, everyone. Including you."

"And where are you planning on escaping to?"

"The French countryside, hopefully. I need to get back to my farm."

"And I need to get back to my duties. There's nothing worse than becoming a Prisoner of War, especially for a Major." Arthur added.

"You're a Major?" For some reason Feliciano couldn't really see Arthur as a Major, but at the same time Arthur had that high-authority aura about him.

"Used to be. Now I'm just a regular prisoner." It seemed Arthur wanted to escape for his own pride more than anything else. Feliciano then felt like he had something stuck in his throat, so tried to clear it.

"So is this—" Clearing his throat turned into an all out coughing fit. "Is this plan—" He continued to splutter between words. "Of yours any—" His whole body convulsed with each wheeze and hack for breath. He doubled over and coughed violently into his hand. After a couple minutes of Francis and Arthur sat staring unable to help, he finally stopped and looked up.

"Any good?" He rasped.

"Are you alright?" Francis stood up. "Do we need to get you to a doctor?"

Feliciano smiled wearily up at them. "Maybe." He held up the hand he was coughing into, revealing a red splatter of blood. "It happened again." Feliciano's vision blurred, then slowly faded to black.

/\/\

Another change of scenery, this time he was looking up at a different wooden ceiling. Feliciano was sweating all over and had a pain in his chest, he was exhausted. Feliciano knew what this feeling was. It was the same suffering he had endured a few years prior; his illness was back. His pulmonary tuberculosis was back and it had come back harsh. He could see someone on the corner of his eye so turned his head groggily to see who. It was Ludwig, the nice doctor who had looked after him a few days ago. He was in fact sat at a desk facing the far wall, which surprised Feliciano since it didn't look like that the last time he was here.

"Oh, hello again." His voice came out all raspy and it was almost inaudible. Ludwig heard though, and turned to face Feliciano. He was wearing a pair of glasses this time, which seemed to frame his face perfectly. He pulled up a chair to the bed.

"Hello again, Feliciano."

"It's Feli."

"Alright, Feliciano. How are you feeling today?" Ludwig was noting things down on a clipboard.

"Like I have a terrible illness called TB." Feliciano pouted and folded his arms across his chest.

Ludwig was slightly surprised by this statement. "It does look like you have pulmonary tuberculosis, unfortunately. I've been told you have recovered from it before?"

Feliciano nodded. "It's not very nice. Do you have a cure?"

"Not at the moment, no. I have the cure in my home but we'll have to wait until it is verified by my superiors." Ludwig looked slightly hopeful.

Feliciano nodded while propping himself up on his elbows. Now he could survey the whole room. It looked like a regular office, with a bed pulled into the centre of the room. "How come I'm the only one here?"

Ludwig stood up and dragged the chair back to the desk, which was to the left of the bed. He tucked the chair under and leant on it to face Feliciano.

"Because the disease you have is very contagious and we don't to infect anyone else."

"Not you though?"

"I am a Beilschmidt, and Beilschmidt's do not catch diseases. We cure them to the best of our abilities."

Feliciano chuckled. "Oh really? Sounds like doctoring runs in the family."

Ludwig suddenly became embarrassed by his statement and pulled back the chair quickly to sit on. "Anyway, you need to get some sleep. Doctor's orders."

Feliciano was already sinking into the clutches of sleep as Ludwig said this. He didn't even get to say goodnight as he was asleep within seconds.

/\/\

Feliciano was conscious before he opened his eyes. He could hear Ludwig's low voice softly humming along to a tune on the gramophone, which was usually just sat collecting dust on the desk. Opening his eyes, Feliciano noticed the broad shouldered man was at the desk with his back to him. Ludwig had not noticed his patient had woken up so didn't stop. It was a song Feliciano knew, and it made him happy that this reserved strict German was crooning along to a cheerful English song. It had a long intro, and Ludwig hummed along to most of it until the singing started, by which Ludwig had stopped, not knowing any English. Feliciano knew the song well enough to know the words, so to Ludwig's utter surprise the once unconscious Italian started singing beautifully in English.

"There are smiles that make us happy,

there are smiles that make us blue.

There are smiles that steal away the teardrops,

as the sunbeams steal away the hue.

There are smiles that tell us in their meaning

that the eyes of love are all they give

and the smiles that fill my life with sunshine

are the smiles that you give to m—"

Feliciano dissolved into a violent coughing fit before he could finish the word. Ludwig tried to stop himself from flinching every time Feliciano's body made a frantic jerk. Feliciano had retreated into himself until he had curled up with his back to the German. It had been several long minutes until Feliciano finally stopped his deafening death spasm. The needle on the gramophone had long since reset itself, waiting for the next record to be played. Ludwig came to Feliciano's aid as quickly as he could. He pulled Feliciano onto his back and assessed the damage. Feliciano just smiled lazily up at him.

"That was a very nice song."

"Try not to speak, Feliciano. You might induce another coughing fit."

Feliciano stuck his bottom lip out. "It's Feli." He then closed his eyes and Ludwig thought he probably went to sleep. He smiled down at this funny Italian.

/\/\

A few nights passed and soon it was the end of Ludwig's shift. He and his brother rotated every week to share the work load. He had tried to say goodbye to Feliciano, but the Italian was somewhat delirious.

Gilbert had heard from his brother about the new patient, but only expected him to be half-dead most of the time, so didn't pay attention to him. This patient slept most of the time, but one night he quickly sat upright.

"But I don't even speak French!" He spoke in German, then lay back down again. Gilbert sat staring at him for a moment trying to figure him out, when the patient started babbling incoherently in Italian. Gilbert was amused by this absurd behaviour and thought the patient to be out of his mind. He then stopped speaking and rose quite wearily into sitting position. He spoke in German again.

"Sorry about that, I could not remember my native language."

"And what language is that?" Gilbert chuckled.

"The most beautiful language ever: Italian." He lay down slowly. "Although nowadays I think German sounds even prettier." Quite quickly, he sat up again. "Wait, you're not Ludwig." The Italian looked confusedly at Gilbert.

"You're gonna get lightheaded with all that sitting up and down. I'm his brother, Gilbert."

Feliciano pointed a finger into the air, as if to prove a point. "Ah yes, so it _does_ run in the family."

"What does? Being awesome?"

Feliciano put on his best Ludwig impression. "Beilschmidt's do not catch diseases. We cure them to the best of our abilities," He smiled at Gilbert. "Right?"

"Sounds like something he would say." Gilbert stood up to shake Feliciano's hand. "Nice to meet you…?"

"Feliciano." Feliciano shook back. "But you can call me Feli."

"Feliciano." Gilbert nodded as if processing something. "Feli, do you have a brother?"

Feliciano rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Yeah, he's called Lovino. He has a very good singing voice. Why?"

"Just wondering, that's all."

Feliciano was about to ask more but he drowsily fell back to sleep.

* * *

 ** _I might start the FrUk one soon, called When the Rain Dissolves so please check it out when it's uploaded. Also don't forget to have a look at When the Storm Breaks, telling Antonio and Lovino's point of_** ** _views._**

 ** _Thanks and please review (＝ワ＝)૭_**


	7. In Which Ludwig is Torn

Yet again Feliciano had woken up not knowing what day it was. As he lazily tossed and turned in his bed to examine evidence of the date he noticed it was morning, and that Gilbert and Ludwig were standing by the door. They were discussing something intently and glancing over to Feliciano now and again. It seemed to be serious as even Gilbert looked grave. Feliciano rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Opening them again, it was suddenly darker than before. Ludwig had somehow teleported back to the desk and was now working by candlelight. It had seemed he'd fallen asleep for the whole day without realising it. That had been happening a lot lately. He shifted his weight onto his side to face Ludwig full on and realised just how cold it was. He had been shivering since before he woke up and only just cognised it. It also felt as if there was a huge weight on his chest, and that something was scratching at the inside of his lungs every time he inhaled. It was immeasurably painful and not the first time he had felt that way.

"Ludwig, I'm cold." He whined. Ludwig looked over at the Italian from where he sat.

"Well there's not much I can do about that." This was the first time Feliciano had spoken in a few weeks. He'd spent most of whatever little waking time he had coughing his lungs out.

"Yes you can," Feliciano insisted. "You could get into bed with me." Ludwig was taken aback by how nonchalantly this statement was said. "Grandpa always said if you feel cold and lonely you should get into bed with someone."

"And where is your Grandpa now?"

There was a brief pause before Feliciano answered. "He's dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Ludwig stood up. He picked up the candle and set it on the bedside table next to Feliciano.

"It's okay, I'm sure he's looking out for me with a smile." Feliciano moved out the way so there was room for Ludwig and patted the space in front of him. Ludwig sat on the bed and made sure the duvet was covering Feliciano. Heat was radiating off of him, even though he was shivering violently, and his voice shook with it as well.

Feliciano chuckled a little. "I didn't think you'd actually get in with me."

Ludwig simpered. "I'm not actually _in_ the bed. Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, thanks." Feliciano was growing more lethargic. "I think you're very nice, Ludwig." He closed his eyes and his breathing became slower. It seemed he had fallen asleep. He was still shivering though. His forehead was glistening with sweat and when Ludwig lay a hand on it, it was burning to the touch. Although he looked peaceful, his breath came out hoarsely and painfully. Ludwig tried to pry himself away and continue with his paperwork, but he was just putting it off. It wasn't like him to procrastinate, but he didn't particularly want to continue with this specific paperwork. It was about Feliciano, and his death. Feliciano wasn't dead yet, but this morning Ludwig had received the order to be rid of him. To kill him. They didn't have enough resources to keep Feliciano going, and it was really frustrating since Ludwig knew how to cure him, but since nothing was allowed in from the outside he couldn't. That was exactly why he had gone to the General in the first place, to ask. Instead he was met with an order to end an innocent life. Ludwig still didn't know if he could go through with it. He had asked Gilbert this morning but Gilbert said he couldn't bring his heart to do it, and that Ludwig was tough enough. As he looked down again at Feliciano, then to the gun resting on his desk, he knew he couldn't do it. But he would have to tonight, those were the orders after all. The news spread quickly throughout the camp, and during the day several prisoners came to petition, to argue, to beg against the order. It seems Feliciano is a popular guy. _Was_ popular. Two other prisoners also came separate from the rest, the same two who had brought Feliciano to him in the first place. They didn't say anything though, just 'goodbye'. It seemed they had already accepted it.

Ludwig couldn't, though. He could never accept it. But it was an order, and Ludwig had never gone against an order before. What would be the consequences if he went against it? Would he go against it? No. It was an order given for him to carry out. He stood up quickly and grabbed the gun from the desk. He marched back into the middle of the room so he was facing Feliciano and pointed the gun right at his head. All Ludwig could hear was his own breath heavy against the still air. Feliciano rolled into a more comfortable position and muttered something in his sleep. Ludwig lowered the gun and started pacing. He couldn't go through with this. Would it be too late to go to the General and ask for another route? No, the General always stuck with the original plan and saw things through until the very end. If Ludwig went to him now, he would take the gun and shoot Feliciano himself. Ludwig levelled the gun again at Feliciano's head. Ludwig knew Feliciano wouldn't like being murdered by some guy he didn't even know the name of. He clicked the safety off. Ludwig knew Feliciano wouldn't want to be murdered in the first place. He put his finger on the trigger. The power of authority wanted him to see it through, but the ever strong inhumane feeling of killing an innocent person kept Ludwig from squeezing that trigger. Feliciano sighed in his sleep. Ludwig swallowed hard. He squeezed the trigger, the sound was deafening. It didn't wake up Feliciano though. A bullet hole was now visible in the wall next to Feliciano's bed. Ludwig dropped the gun as if were hot steel. Now what? The whole camp would think Feliciano was dead. What would they think if two shots were fired? Ludwig raked a hand through his hair. Well, there was no turning back now. He had been given a body bag to put Feliciano in, then he was supposed to drop him off at the morgue. That wouldn't be happening. Since Feliciano was out cold anyway, and wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, Ludwig decided to slip him into the body bag. Slumping him over his shoulder, Ludwig marched out of the camp carrying Feliciano.

 _To be continued..._


	8. In Which Everything is Explained

Feliciano rubbed his eyes free of sleep. These weren't the usual cracks in the ceiling he had been greeted with over the last few days. Weeks? He didn't know anymore. This bed had also become a lot comfier than he last remembered. He surprised himself by actually being able to sit up and surveyed the room. The desk had gone and the layout of the room had become completely different. There was now a comfortable looking armchair to the right of the bed and a bedside table on the left. There was also a door opposite him. A chest of drawers was to the left of the bed, and there was now a large window emitting a harsh white light. Once his eyes adjusted to it, Feliciano could see it was snowing. The white specks dancing down the window pane excited him greatly, it barely snowed in Italy unless you were high up on the mountains of Isonzo. Feliciano wondered for a breif moment if this was a dream. It wasn't cold, he didn't feel light headed, and he could almost forget about the painful scratching inside his lungs. There was still that ever lingering familiar smell of the Beilschmidt's that both Gilbert and Ludwig carried about them.

The door suddenly opened and Ludwig strode in, followed by Gilbert. A third figure also entered the room. Feliciano recognised him by the way he stormed up to the bed.

"Dio mio, Feliciano you idiot. What the fuck are you doing here?" Lovino spoke very sternly in Italian.

"I think I should be asking you the same question. I came to find you, fratello."

"Well you shouldn't have. Look, you're ill again, what did I tell you?"

"I can't remember." Feliciano giggled sheepishly. "Plus Antonio looked really sad so I had to come."

"Fuck him, I told him to keep you away from any kind of war."

"It wasn't his fault, it was my idea and he told me not to go but I did anyway so be mad at me instead." Feliciano quickly tried to shift the blame away from Antonio. "Wait, why are you here?"

Lovino sat down at the end of the bed. "I jumped of the train that was taking us to the Prisoner of War camp." He nodded to Gilbert. "He found me and took me in."

Feliciano nodded to show he understood. This was all said in Italian so both Gilbert and Ludwig looked very confused. Feliciano decided to switch to German.

"Where are we, anyway?"

"Oh right, yeah. He kind of have to tell Feliciano what happened." Gilbert left Feliciano in bewilderment.

Feliciano's eyebrows knotted together in confusion. "What happened?"

Ludwig sighed heavily. "I was ordered to kill you but I couldn't do it, so I brought you here." He said this with a mixture of pride, shame and exasperation.

"I knew you were a nice person." Feliciano smiled as if he had just been told a joke he'd heard before. "Um, so where is here?"

"It's the farmhouse Ludwig and I grew up in. Although we don't farm." Gilbert chuckled and started to move towards the door. "I just gotta go check on something." He left the room.

Lovino jumped up suddenly. "The soup!" He exclaimed and ran out the room. Feliciano chuckled at his brother. It was so good to see him again after all that had happened. Ludwig went to the chest of drawers and took a stethoscope from one of the drawers. He came and sat down on the arm chair. Moving it closer to the bed, he put the stethoscope in his ears. "I'll check your vitals while you're still sat up."

Feliciano nodded, unbuttoned his shirt and turned around. Ludwig usually measured how it sounded at the back first. Ludwig placed the cold chest piece against the right side of Feliciano's back and ordered him to breath in and out. He repeated this with the left side then told him to turn to face him, so he could listen to his chest. Feliciano shivered at how cold the chest piece was, and inhaled and exhaled as he was told. He was sitting so close to Ludwig and he could feel his face heating up. Why was he always warm around Ludwig? And what was this knot in his stomach he could always feel tighten whenever Ludwig looked at him? Ludwig looked confused for a second and drew the chest piece away. He tapped it a little, put it to his own chest to test it, then replaced it on the same place on Feliciano's chest. Feliciano breathed in and out again, but this made Ludwig take the stethoscope off in frustration and confusion. Instead, he placed a hand on Feliciano's chest as a replacement. Suddenly becoming flustered, Feliciano decided to break the ice with a question.

"S-something wrong?"

"No, nothing. I'm not hearing what I usually hear, so that means you should be recovering."

Felciano smiled relievedly. "Really?"

"Yeah, well we did inject you with the cure while you were unconscious." Ludwig frowned again. "But your heart rate is immeasurably fast." He stopped focusing on his hand and looked up to Felciano's face, which had moved a lot closer in the past minute. Ludwig's heart also quickened and he found himself leaning in too. Both men's cheeks were stained crimson and Ludwig felt as if he had never been so close to another human being. The door suddenly swung open and Ludwig found himself already stood up and on his way out the room. It was Lovino, and he had brought tomato soup. Feliciano stayed in the same position and stared at the space where Ludwig was. He had never felt so alone.

 _To be continued..._


	9. In Which They Try to Stand

"Why does Gilbert keep on going to eat in his room with enough food for two?" Feliciano inquired. He and Lovino were eating pasta together in what was now dubbed 'Feliciano's room' and the days Gilbert had been at home, he had always gone upstairs to eat. Since Feliciano had been bedridden for so long he had lost feeling in his legs, so Lovino often sat on the armchair and ate his meals with his brother. This gave them time to catch up, the two hadn't been apart ever before and although only Feliciano would admit it, they both missed each other greatly. Since Feliciano insisted the door to be open, he could see most of what was going on in the house. From where he sat, he was on the second floor and it seemed his room was at the end of a thin corridor, with a small window at the other end. The people of the house would frequently use this corridor as it was the one connecting one stairwell going down on the right, and another going up on the left. He had noticed Gilbert furtively make his way up the stairs with two meals instead of one, every breakfast, lunch and dinner. Lovino was taken aback by this question, but didn't seem too surprised. He finished chewing the pasta in his mouth, stood up, placed the plate on the armchair and left the room. Going up the stairs, he left Feliciano in complete bewilderment. After about ten minutes he came back down and sat on the armchair, placing the plate of pasta back on his lap. Feliciano raised an eyebrow. Lovino's face was a mixture of disgruntlement and embarrassment.

"Fucking hell." He sighed. "Well, Gilbert has this guy with him upstairs and we can't tell Ludwig because they have like, you know, have a relationship like Antonio and I. Plus he's one of their enemies, so like us."

"What's wrong with that? Why can't we tell Ludwig?"

"Because, Feliciano, we don't know how Ludwig will react. You know how those fucking Nuns reacted, right?"

Feliciano nodded solemnly. He still didn't know what happened that night but never brought it up just in case Lovino would snap at him for doing so.

"So I need you to keep it a secret from Ludwig, alright?" Lovino continued, "You better keep your fucking mouth shut, I'm warning you."

Feliciano nodded quickly. He had been trusted with a lot of secrets lately. This made him think back to Francis and Arthur, and their escape plan. It was quite funny to him that he had been able to escape without their help, although it hadn't been planned and he had no part in it. He wondered how long it had been since they had started planning to escape, which led him to another thought; he didn't even know what month it was.

"Hey, Lovino?"

"What is it, Dumbass?"

"What day is it?"

Lovino looked up from the pasta and frowned at his younger brother. "Um, Tuesday."

"No." Feliciano giggled. "I mean what month."

"You mean you don't know what fucking month it is?"

"I was kind of ill for a while."

"Fucking hell, Feli. It's been about a week since you came here, you could've asked anytime."

Feliciano shrugged. "I didn't think of it before."

Lovino exhaled heavily. "It's December 15th, okay?"

Feliciano clapped excitedly. "It's ten days until Christmas!"

"Don't expect anything this year, okay? Not even a fucking turkey."

Feliciano pouted. "Do you think I'd be able to walk by then?"

Lovino made a noise of uncertainty. "How long did it take you last time?"

Feliciano thought for a moment. "I don't know, I wasn't really counting the days."

Lovino then made a noise of frustration and stood up. He took his and Feliciano's empty plates and placed them on the chest of drawers. Walking back to Feliciano, he held out his arms for Feliciano to grab onto.

"Come one then, we don't have all day."

Feliciano smiled widely. He positioned himself so he was facing Lovino and his feel were firmly planted on the floor. Holding on tightly to his brother, Lovino managed to pull Feliciano into standing position. They were able to stay like that for a brief moment, but before long Feliciano's legs gave way and they both ended up on the floor.

"FUCK!"

"Sorry!"

Lovino sat cross-legged while Feliciano was stuck lying down. "Maybe we should call it a day."

"But how am I gonna get back into bed?"

Lovino thought for a second. "I could carry you?" He seemed unsure about this idea but tried to carry it out anyway. At first he tried picking him up like a toddler under his arms, but this made Feliciano giggle infectiously, so he abandoned the idea. Next he tried bridal style but he only got Feliciano about an inch from the ground before dropping him.

"Why are you so fucking heavy? It's the German diet, isn't it? It's making you fat." Lovino deduced.

"But I thought I was supposed to get fat?" One of the symptoms of Feliciano's disease was unexplained weight loss. If you took his top off you would be able to see his rib cage, so Lovino took it onto himself to cook large meals for Feliciano.

Lovino stood up. "I think we're gonna need Gilbert's help." He promptly left the room and returned with Gilbert in tow.

Gilbert chuckled at Feliciano's predicament. "You guys should tell me before doing something like this, I could've helped."

"Now you tell me. I have a bruise on my ass now because of him." Lovino scowled.

Feliciano laughed sheepishly. Gilbert crouched down and lifted Feliciano up easily.

"You're very light, have you been eating enough?" He placed Feliciano gently back on the bed.

Feliciano sniggered. "Now I'm getting mixed messages. First Lovi says I'm too fat, now you're saying I should eat more."

Gilbert poked Lovino on the forehead. "Stop giving Feliciano mixed messages."

Lovino scrunched up his nose and rubbed his forehead. "It was your fault too, you fucking bastard."

Gilbert then proceeded to poke Lovino continuously on the side of his head while sniggering. And each time, Lovino would try to bat him away, but with limited success. Feliciano watched this sight amusedly until he decided he wanted to ask a question.

"Gilbert? You know the man you have upstairs?"

Gilbert stopped teasing Lovino and faced Feliciano. "Yeah?"

"Why don't you tell Ludwig?" Gilbert looked doubtful so Feliciano continued. "If I'm able to get downstairs by Christmas, all" Feliciano counted on his fingers. "All 5 of us could eat together."

Gilbert assessed this for a moment. "Only if you're able to walk by then."

Feliciano smiled. This made him more determined than ever.

 _To be continued..._


	10. In Which He Gets to the Top

Every year the two Beilschmidt brothers got a week off to celebrate Christmas together. As they entered this week now, Gilbert decided to take some time playing the piano. A good Austrian friend of his from a while ago had taught him all he knew, although they were on bad terms now. After another friend of his, French this time, had introduced Debussy to him he hadn't stopped playing Debussy's concertos. He and this French friend, and a third friend, had actually toured Europe once upon a time. Gilbert would play the piano, the Frenchman on strings, while the third would sing. They would often go out and get drunk after a concert. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. To think one of his greatest friends would become an enemy.

As the notes effortlessly wafted throughout the house, Ludwig decided to check up on Feliciano. Why? He didn't know. He just had a terrible feeling whenever they were apart that something might happen to the little weak Italian. When he got to the top of the stairs at first he thought something terrible _had_ happened. Feliciano was sprawled out on the floor next to the door. He peered up at Ludwig.

"Look I made it further today." He was incredibly excited about this and was trying to prop himself up on the door. Ludwig found it astonishing how Feliciano was able to focus on the triumph more than the downfall. If Ludwig were in this situation he would centre around the fact that he had fallen and start to think of ways to improve.

"Didn't I tell you specifically _not_ to try walking when you're on your own?" Ludwig crouched down and helped Feliciano into a sitting position.

Feliciano rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, but I want to try and get downstairs by Christmas."

"That's six days away, what's the hurry?"

Feliciano made a noise of thought, which was a continuous 'eh', only used by Italians Ludwig had deciphered since he had only heard Feliciano and Lovino make this noise during a thought process. The Italian's eyes were drawn to Gilbert's room in the attic. "I wanted to have Christmas lunch with you all."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow and followed Feliciano's gaze. "Oh really?"

"Where are you going?" Feliciano followed Ludwig's face as he stood up.

"To check on something." Ludwig started to move towards the staircase up to the attic. He didn't get very far as Feliciano hugged his legs.

"Aren't you gonna help me back into bed?"Feliciano looked pleadingly up Ludwig. After a long and hard death stare, Ludwig quickly picked up Feliciano bridal style and carried him over to the bed. The way Ludwig was acting, it seemed like he was going to throw Feliciano back into bed, but instead he gently lowered him onto the sheets. He then continued on his journey to Gilbert's room.

"Wait!" Feliciano looked around for inspiration; his eyes landed on the drawer where stethoscope resided. "Uh, why don't you check my vitals?" He clasped his chest dramatically. "I think I broke a rib falling down!"

Ludwig sighed and sat down next to Feliciano. "If you had broken a rib you'd be in a lot more pain than that. Where does it hurt?"

Feliciano patted the centre of his chest twice. "Um, here." He said doubtfully.

Ludwig chuckled. He took Feliciano's hand and guided it to the left side of his ribcage. "If you had broken a rib it would've hurt here." He positioned his own hand on the right side. "Or here."

"Oh." Feliciano whispered, his eyes only on Ludwig. The two hadn't noticed how close they had gotten to each other in the past couple minutes. It was just like the time when the stethoscope supposedly didn't work, except they were a lot closer this time; their noses were practically touching. The two of them stayed like that for a moment, listening to Debussy float up the stairs. They were more or less breathing into each other, so Feliciano decided to close the gap. They closed their eyes; their lips met; they lingered for a moment; they both pulled away at the same time; they sat staring at each other. Ludwig removed his hands and peeled away his eyes to meet the floorboards. "I," He stood up, avoiding Feliciano's face. "I'm sorry."

"Wait," Feliciano reached out to Ludwig but he had already left the room. Debussy continued to be played mesmerisingly by Gilbert.

The next day, Ludwig acted as if nothing had happened. In fact, without Ludwig's help, Feliciano wouldn't have made it out into the hallway. Over the next few days, little by little, Feliciano made it to the top of the stairs. He was very proud of this fact and let the whole house know by shouting it at anyone who walked by. Now, on Christmas Eve, as Ludwig came up the stairs he expected the usual from Feliciano. "Luddy, I made it to the top of the stairs." Or, "Hey, I think we should try going down the stairs today." He got none of that today though. In fact, Feliciano was completely absent from his usual spot on the bed. Ludwig poked his head into the room in case Feliciano was hiding behind the door or something similar. Confused, Ludwig spun around in search of the Italian, and eventually found the silhouette of the one he was looking for staring out the window at the other end of the corridor.

"Feliciano!" Feliciano jumped and peered cautiously round to face Ludwig. Ludwig started marching towards him. "I thought I told you to _not_ try and walk when we're not around."

"I wanted a change of scenery!" Feliciano quickly blurted out. Ludwig tried to grab Feliciano when he got to him, presumably to lift him up and put him back to bed, but Feliciano managed to avoid this by ducking under Ludwig's arm. With no where else to go, Feliciano decided to hop down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs there were three doors; one opposite the staircase leading outside, one on the left going to the kitchen and dining room, and one on the right headed into the living room. Feliciano headed straight for Gilbert and Lovino, who were sat on the sofa in the living room.

"Gilbert," He said breathlessly, slumping onto the sofa opposite. "I made it downstairs."

Gilbert looked up from his newspaper. "Well done, Feliciano."

"You know that means." Lovino took a sip of his coffee.

Gilbert focussed his attention back on the newspaper. "Let me just read the end of this article."

Lovino snatched the paper from his hands. "Just fucking do it already."

Gilbert stood up uncertainly. "Alright." He sighed and left the room. Feliciano moved to follow him but ended up falling back into the sofa. He also wanted to meet this mystery person Gilbert kept in his room, but his legs wouldn't obey. He had done way too much excerise today, and had soon fallen asleep on the sofa. Later on, Ludwig had to carry Feliciano back to bed. Feliciano was still asleep, but opened his eyes for a brief moment and kept them on Ludwig. Ludwig was concentrating on the steps he was taking.

"I like you, Ludwig." He said sleepily.

Ludwig looked surprisedly at Feliciano for a second, then back at the floor. "Really?" Feliciano made a noise of agreement, then his breathing pattern changed. After a moment, Ludwig looked back at Feliciano. It had seemed he had fallen asleep.

"I like you too, Feli." Ludwig kept his eyes on the ground and whispered under his breath. Feliciano smiled to himself.

 _To be continued..._


	11. In Which Smiles Returns for Christmas

_Smiles:(Youtube) watch?v=fYOl_PuvsMg_

* * *

Feliciano was up and out of bed before he could even process what day it was. It was Christmas. Christmas day. He heard something crash down the stairs and suddenly Gilbert burst into the room.

"Feli, Feliciano," Gilbert tripped over Feliciano's name in excitement. "Jeez your name is long. C'mon, let's wake up Ludwig and Lovino."

Gilbert was out the room again and it took a lot of effort on Feliciano's behalf to catch up with him. As they barged into Ludwig's room they were a bit disappointed to see him already up and ready to go. Nonetheless both men bounded up to Ludwig letting their sheer delight for what day it was be known. Gilbert and Feliciano made Ludwig dizzy by jumping in circles around him. Feliciano was babbling about being able to walk on Christmas and that Antonio wasn't there but that was okay, and that they needed to wake up Lovino. Gilbert agreed and they left the room as fast as they appeared, leaving Ludwig in a half daze.

Upon entering Lovino's room, it was dark, dull and there was a Lovino-sized lump on the bed. Feliciano took this opportunity to leap onto his brother. This was met with a groan.

"Come on, Lovi it's Christmas!" Feliciano bounced excitedly on the bed.

"You fucking Bastard, go away." He groaned. "What time is it anyway?"

"6:52am" Ludwig said from the doorway. "And we should start cooking the dinner soon."

"Can I help?" Feliciano hopped off the bed and ran to Ludwig.

"Um, sure. Can you cook?"

"He can fucking cook better than me." Lovino mumbled from under the duvet.

Ludwig seemed to be surprised by this and Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Okay, we'll have to see then."

Feliciano waved a hand dismissively "Nah, I haven't cooked anything in ages. Lovino's better."

Lovino buried himself into the duvet a bit more. "Go away." He whined.

Downstairs, Feliciano sprung into the kitchen after Gilbert and Ludwig, ready for anything. What he wasn't ready for, however, was the plump dead bird on the cutting board, ready to be prepared for dinner. He immediately clung onto Ludwig at the sight.

"Is it dead?"

"I should hope so." Gilbert chuckled and sauntered over to the bird. "I shot it yesterday. It's not a turkey, but it'll do." He patted the still remaining feathers. "Matthew helped me find it actually." He was very proud of this.

Ludwig seemed dumbfounded. "How? Actually don't answer that." He sighed.

"Matthew?" This must be the man in the attic Feliciano had bee waiting to see.

"You haven't met him yet, have you Feliciano?" Gilbert rejoined the two in the centre of the room and ruffled Feliciano's hair.

Feliciano shook his head. "I'd like to though, I mean he seems like an interesting guy."

"Okay I'll introduce you." Gilbert started to lead Feliciano towards the stairs. "We'll leave Ludwig to the preparation."

Ludwig scowled in their direction as they left.

"Do you think he'll be alright on his own?" Feliciano fretted as they climbed the stairs.

"Nah, it's Ludwig. Plus I was looking for an excuse to leave, I wanna be as lazy as possible today."

Feliciano nodded, knowing this feeling. Lovino was waiting at the top of the stairs so he could pass by them. Feliciano waved at him.

"We're going to meet Matthew." He explained.

"Listen up, then." Lovino started to trot down the stairs when they reached the top. "The guy's quiet as fuck."

Once in Gilbert's room Feliciano could finally see the mystery man in the attic.

"Matthew, this is Feliciano. Feliciano, this is Matthew."

Matthew was lanky and tall with floppy golden-brown hair which reminded Feliciano of Francis. He also had a pair of glasses perched on his nose, with cloudy blue eyes staring through them. He held out a pale hand.

"Nice to meet you." He was very quiet indeed, but Feliciano didn't mind; this was an opportunity to make a new friend. He took the hand and shook vigorously.

"Hello, you don't sound German. Lovino said you were an enemy, that is not my enemy, but Germany's enemy. Lovino also said you and Gilbert were in a relationship like Antonio and Lovino. Does that mean you're married like Antonio and Lovino? Except I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that. Are you American? I've never been to America before. I heard it's a lawless place and people get hanged for no reason. Are there any laws in America?"

"Uh," Matthew was taken aback by this large babble of questions. In the he could only manage one statement. "I'm Canadian."

Later on, just after everyone finished dinner, Gilbert stood up and cleared his throat.

"Although we don't have much, I've managed to get some Christmas presents for you all." He ducked under the table and brought up a box. He sifted through for a moment until he suddenly threw a knitted scarf at Lovino. "One for you," He threw a similar one at Ludwig. "One for you," He pointed at Matthew. "Matt's is in the bedroom." He turned to Feliciano. "Feliciano, I didn't have much time to knit you anything, so here you are instead." He reached into the box and brought out a pendant, a Teutonic Knight's Cross on string. Ludwig was surprised at the sight of it.

"Thank you." Feliciano didn't know what to make of it. He held out his hand and Gilbert let the pendant drop in his open palms. "I feel bad now, I didn't get anything for you guys." Feliciano fiddled about with the cross. Ludwig reached over and took it out of his hands.

"Here, I'll put it on you." Feliciano shifted until he had his back to Ludwig and Ludwig tied the string round his neck in a neat little bow. Lovino stood up then, and walked towards the pantry at the back of the room. He returned with a plate at hand, and placed it in the centre of the table.

"There's your fucking Christmas present." He slumped into his chair.

"What is it?" Matthew asked.

"Grispelle. Enjoy."

"Grispa-what?"

Feliciano clapped his hands excitedly. "Oh I haven't had these in ages." He started eating immediately.

"I say again, grispa-what?" Gilbert persisted.

"God damn potato doughnuts, you fucking idiot."

"It's a traditional Southern Italian Christmas dessert." Feliciano explained. "Doughnuts made out of sweet potatoes." And with that, the plate was cleared almost immediately.

Licking his fingers, Feliciano remembered something. "Oh Ludwig, I have a Christmas present for you, but it's upstairs."

"Oh, I see how it is." Lovino was very offended. "You get the potato bastard a gift but not your own brother."

Feliciano bowed his head solemnly. "Sorry, I'll make it up to you next year." He stood up and escorted Ludwig to his bedroom. Feliciano shut the door behind him and led Ludwig to the bed. As they both sat down Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

"So? What is this 'Christmas present' of yours?"

Feliciano smiled knowingly. He held up a finger to indicate Ludwig would have to wait. Keeping the finger where it was, he leant back to the bed side table and dimmed the oil lamp. It had already become dark outside so the soft orange glow set the perfect mood for a good night's sleep, something Ludwig was itching to get to since he had to work the next day. Feliciano then had to use both hands to get something from underneath the bed. It was a gramophone, the one from Gilbert's room by the looks of it. It already had a record in place, so Feliciano just had to wind it up to get it going. 'Smiles' the English song Feliciano had sung to Ludwig many weeks ago started playing. Ludwig couldn't help but smile at the familiar tune.

"How did you get this? I thought it was still at the camp."

Feliciano tapped the side of his nose twice in secrecy. "I wanted you to listen to it on Christmas day." Feliciano smiled sheepishly down at the floorboards. "I also wanted to hear it again, with you."

Ludwig felt a flutter in his chest which was unfamiliar to him and yet a feeling he wanted to welcome whole heartedly. Before he knew what he was doing, Ludwig scooted a little closer and gently turned Feliciano's chin until their eyes met.

"I'm glad you did." Oh God what was he saying? He quickly drew his hand away and tore his gaze down to his hands on his lap, then flickered it up to the spinning record just behind Feliciano. Feliciano was smiling brightly at him. Smiling brilliantly. Smiling beautifully. Ludwig didn't know if he deserved to look at his beaming smile, which seemed to radiate, to fill the room with sunshine. Then the singing started. Feliciano sung along, naturally. Ludwig couldn't, wouldn't hear the song any other way.

"There are smiles that make us happy, there are smiles that make us blue."

Ludwig couldn't keep his eyes away from the melodic sound of Feliciano's voice.

"There are smiles that steal away the teardrops, as the sunbeams steal away the hue."

The two inched closer in the amber glow, their fingers entwining on the bed.

"There are smiles that tell us in their meaning, that the eyes of love are all they give"

The two were so close, but not as close as the other day. Ludwig decided to join in with the last line.

"And the smiles that fill my life with sunshine, are the smiles that you give to m—"

Once again, Feliciano couldn't finish the song. Last time he had been interrupted by an illness, this time was far less bitter. This time he had been interrupted by lips being pressed hotly against his own. He gave into built up desires he didn't know were present and leant back while melting into Ludwig at the same time. Ludwig had never felt such pleasure dance through his veins and out his fingertips. Each touch of skin on skin became electric and addictive. Ludwig drew his hand up to stroke Feliciano's soft cheek. They both moaned into each kiss and soon they both followed a rhythmic gentle rock into one another. Falling delicately back onto the pillows, Ludwig started to unbutton Feliciano's shirt while nuzzling into the Italian's neck. Feliciano dragged his fingers through Ludwig's hair and lightly kissed his forehead. The record had stopped playing but neither of them cared. Feliciano had never felt such an indulging sensation, never thought he would do. But here he was, in bed with Ludwig. Feliciano couldn't help but smile at remembering what Antonio had said so long ago: 'we will be here to support you and your love.'

'Your love.' His love. The idea was no longer alien to him. He had found his love, after all. And he could not stop smiling about it.

* * *

 _To be continued..._


	12. In Which The Sunshine Faltered

About a week passed and soon it was New Years. Gilbert opened an old bottle of champagne he saved for the occasion and they all counted down to midnight. They celebrated and drank. However, only a few minutes after 1916 began, the telephone rang. Gilbert left the room for a few minutes and came back with a grim look.

"It's the POW Camp. _All_ the prisoners are trying to escape. They need me to help."

Ludwig stood up. "Do you need me to come with you?"

Gilbert shook his head while putting on his coat. "Nah, it's alright I can handle it." He insisted and Ludwig sat down again. "Save me some champagne." Gilbert called as he shut the front door behind him. The sound was somehow deafening.

The next day Gilbert had still not returned, and both Matthew and Ludwig were getting anxious.

"I'm sure he just had to stay with someone overnight, because they were badly wounded." Feliciano tried to calm their worries.

"Or maybe _he's_ badly wounded." Lovino suggested.

"Lovino, that doesn't help."

Ludwig put on his coat. "I'm going to go see if he's alright."

"But—" The sound of the front door slamming cut Feliciano off. A few minutes of silence passed and Feliciano started figeting. Finally, he stood up.

"Feliciano, no." Lovino sounded like a stern talking mother scolding her child. Feliciano took no notice of this and started to move uncertainly towards the front door. Lovino caught his arm before he could go any further. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"He going to see if Ludwig's alright." Matthew answered for him. He was staring blankly ahead, but at that moment he looked at the two brothers. "Let him go, find Gil for me." Lovino reluctantly let go of Feliciano's arm, and he practically sprinted out the door, out onto the road. The cold hit him first. It hadn't occurred to him how long it had been since he was last outside. A terrible feeling settled in his gut as snow started to flutter down and clouds crawled slowly towards the sun. He could already see the POW Camp fenced off up ahead. He could also hear distant gunshots, too disciplined to be part of a war. They were orderly, someone ordered to shoot, to kill. Feliciano started shivering. Not only from the cold, but also from anticipation of what lay ahead. He had been silently worrying about Francis and Arthur all night. He wondered again if they were still alive.

When he reached the fence, the usually chained up gate was swung open, probably in Ludwig's wake. He cautiously stepped through into the courtyard. The first thing he noticed was the lack of people. There was a small group of about seven people up ahead but that was about it. Francis and Arthur were part of this group of people, but were the only ones handcuffed. They were stood up against a wall, opposite them three German Officers stood pointing guns at them. Feliciano recognised all of them from his POW Camp days, and had chatted to all of them at least once. There also stood another man in a different uniform, standing too proudly to be a mere soldier or Officer. No, his medals and uniform said otherwise. He was a General. And finally, a solemn onlooker stood, waiting. In the end, Ludwig didn't find Gilbert. Instead, he had to watch as men he had helped cure and get back on their feet get shot at. Francis Arthur, being the ring leaders, were the last to go.

The General shouted something and the three Officers tensed up a little and prepared to shoot.

Feliciano started running towards them. "No!" It was the only thing Feliciano could think to say, the only thing he could think to do. Ludwig looked like had seen a ghost. Francis, Arthur and the Officers thought they were looking at one. The General seemed unfazed. Once the Italian had gotten close enough, he was panting from doing actual exercise, the General grabbed him by the arm.

"Italian scum." He threw Feliciano against the wall caked with blood, next to Francis and Arthur who helped him regain his balance. The General glanced at Ludwig. "I'm not even going to ask why he's even alive." He turned back to the Officers. "Kill them already." He waited to the side next to Ludwig.

The Officers had lowered their guns when Feliciano came into view, but now uncertainly levelled them with those who were to be shot. Nobody pulled the trigger. They stood in bewildered silence for a moment.

"Well what are you waiting for?" The General boomed impatiently.

The one nearest to the General piped up. "We can't shoot Feliciano, he's innocent."

The General sighed, drew out his own gun and shot the man who had spoken. He slumped to the ground, lifeless. Feliciano jumped at the sound. "Will you now?"

The two remaining quickly levelled their guns again, but were not able to shoot. Two more shots echoed and they both fell to the ground, each clutching a leg and groaning. Ludwig held a smoking revolver aloft, and now pointed it at the General.

"Drop the gun."

"Treason." The General obeyed, dropping his gun.

"Where are the keys?" Ludwig was stern. He wasn't going to let anyone lay a finger on Feliciano. If he was doing this, he would see it through until the end.

"Treason!"

"Keys!" He barked. It felt good to hold this man at gunpoint.

The General cautiously felt inside his inner pockets. The air became a shade darker as the clouds covered up the sun. A quick draw, a shot tore through the air. Ludwig clutched his stomach and fell to his knees. Feliciano screamed. He tried to run to Ludwig, who was on the floor, but was held back by Francis as the General pointed the gun at the three of them.

"I'll finish you off myself then." His voice ridden with malicious intent of revenge, he strode straight to Arthur. It seemed they had some history. "Look who's helpless no—" The General was cut off by a bullet going through his brain. Ludwig had propped himself up on his elbow to get a good angle from the ground. He now dropped the gun and slumped on his back. Feliciano ran to him, fat tears already rolling down his cheeks. A sun ray shined down on them.

"T-tell me wha-what I should do, what should I do?" Feliciano started blabbering. Ludwig only smiled, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight. Francis joined him, and started putting pressure on the wound. Ludwig drew in a sharp intake of breath and winced. He smiled again at Feliciano and placed a hand on his cheek. Feliciano placed his own hand on Ludwig's.

"Smile, Feliciano." Ludwig's voice was thick.

Feliciano swallowed hard. "Don't die, please don't die."

"Smile, Feliciano." Ludwig insisted. "Because the smiles that fill my life with sunshine." Ludwig's eyelids grew heavy and he didn't finish the lyric. Feliciano buried his face in Ludwig's chest and sobbed.

Feliciano's shaky voice finished what Ludwig started. "Are the smiles you give to me."

* * *

 _To be continued..._

 _(Definitely to be continued I am not leaving it there)_


	13. Hiatus

I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to put this story on hiatus for a while.

I feel bad for leaving it here, but this hiatus is due to exams creeping up quite quickly, and I really need to focus on that at the moment.

I will pick this back up around June, so I'll see you then.

Please check out my other works while you wait, especially Be Proud because since I'm working on that in collaboration with Fatal Fandomer, we might be able to squeeze out a chapter or two before June.

And, of course please check out When the Storm Breaks as it's the same story, but in Lovino and Antonio's POVs.

Thank you for understanding,

Lazy Wonderland （＝ワ＝）૭


	14. Sorry

**Sorry**

Just something to say I'm sorry. I said I would update by the end of June and it is now the end of August(as of writing this). The reason being; loss of inspiration and a whole lot of procrastination. Also vampires, ghosts and pirates got in the way, which isn't all that bad. I managed to write some more for my other fic Don't Go Whistling By My Grave (which I have a lot planned for) and a vampire fic with Fatal Fandomer on her account(which I implore you to check out(seriously, even if you don't like vampires)).

I have many fics planned but not written out, this is one of them. I just don't want to think about war at the moment tbh. Also Steven Universe and the new dub of World Twinkle has kept me busy. I hope you understand. I will hopefully revisit this series again, but not right away. I have many plans for this.

Here's to possibly being the next DeVialler!

Thanks for sticking around.


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